


Serial Killer

by DanTheExplodingCreeper, WildKingJackal



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: GTA AU, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Kinda, M/M, Mild Smut, Panic Attacks, Past Violence, Slight fluff, Slow Burn, Smoking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanTheExplodingCreeper/pseuds/DanTheExplodingCreeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKingJackal/pseuds/WildKingJackal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People say the Mad Mercenary has always been alone until he joined forces with the Fake AH crew.<br/>What they didn't know, was that you'd been by his side for a good long while before he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Eyes and Cigarette Smoke

You stare at this man in an alleyway who has his back to you. You know who it is without even asking, without even talking. The Vagabond. The mad mercenary.

You stare, in your too large hoodie and your too loose pants and steel toe boots as the Vagabond simply stops in the middle of his tracks. You freeze, obviously, but less out of fear and more out of anticipation. You expect something, anything.

He simply looks back at you, ice cold eyes cutting into your skin like a winter storm and you wonder, dreamily, what makes it so hard to look away. Not that you have to, he looks away first and disappears into the dead of night. It's the first time you meet him, and it won't be the last, you'll make sure of that.

You notice him again the next night and you think it might be because this city is a slow one, or maybe because there aren't that many criminals around. You don't care.

You follow him like a shadow when you can but you know he always sees you. You keep at it, running after him as you pickpocket people, trying to catch up. You lose him after fifteen minutes but your wide smile and heavy breathing is enough for now.

Every now and then he lets you lean against the wall with him as you smile and observe people. He doesn't talk, but he seems to enjoy having you as a shadow.

It gets to a point where when you try to mug people in an alley, he'll shoot them dead and let you loot them. You work perfectly together. You give him a map of the city that you know inside out, the darkest alleys, the quietest places.

You start to follow him more as he allows you to, all smiles and silence as he sneaks through the darkness. You never expect him to talk, so when he calls out "Shadow, over here," one night as you're walking alone, you jump. Of course you go to him, boundless energy underneath your skin as he walks ahead of you, as per usual.

You wonder if the name "Shadow" is a joke, but you don't mind, not really. You have the Vagabond's attention and he seems to have a kind of soft spot for you. Maybe it's because you're the only thing that changes in this boring place.

You don't know where he lives, he never lets you follow him there, but you follow him everywhere else after five months. Instead of walking behind him, you're next to him, talking softly as he listens. You think he doesn't really, but you still talk. He shows you how to properly hold a knife and gun when mugging someone. He takes you out to a field and teaches you how to shoot a gun accurately. You're not the best but he still seems proud when you make progress.

After the sixth month, you're on a rooftop, back to back sitting down, leaning against each other. He hands you a cigarette and you wonder if you should take it or not (you take it). There's a long silence where you stare at the unlit cancer stick in your hands before you lean back comfortably against the Vagabond. "I'm thinking of leaving," is all you say as you stare at the early morning sky. "There's nothing left for me here, I think it's time I disappear some place bigger."

The Vagabond is silent for a long time, long enough for you to think of getting up and leaving. But then you hear him sigh. "You're the only thing worthwhile in this city."

You laugh sadly at those words, handing him the cigarette back with a tired smile. "Yeah, well, I gotta leave my mark somewhere, y'know? Can't be like you, not good enough for that."

His grunt is one of disapproval but you keep your smile. "Hey, maybe we'll see each other in hell or whatever." You chuckle, feeling more exhausted now than you have in a long time. The sigh you hear lets you know all that you need and you move to stand up. "It was nice, following you around, V."

"Don't call me that, Shadow." His voice is more of an annoyed growl now but you laugh loudly still. You leave without much of a second thought, going to your cheap apartment to pick up everything you own, which isn't much at all.

You steal a car and leave the sleepy city behind, your heart clenching at the thought of the Vagabond still being there. It doesn't matter, it was always a temporary thing, one of you was bound to leave. You're happy it was you before him, at least you got to say some semblance goodbye.

* * *

 

A few months later, you're packing things in another small apartment, smirking at your little souvenirs everywhere. Things you've stolen, things from long before, are all scattered on and in a tiny bedside table. You slump into bed, happily going to sleep.

You've almost forgotten about the Vagabond as you stroll through the busier city, hood over your head and hands in your pockets. It's peaceful, in a way, being alone. You target who you want, mugging or pickpocketing them. You act as a street magician, your hands quick and efficient at making things disappear.

You've forgotten pretty much everything about the Vagabond, by choice, and you don't expect to ever see him again. So when you spot the familiar mask of the mad mercenary, you freeze, blinking in surprise, before running off after it. You know it was him, it had to be. Three months and you see him again? It's either your head playing tricks on you or it's really him.

When you get to where you're sure you saw him, there's nothing but an empty alleyway. Your heart clenches tightly but you refuse to acknowledge it. You drag yourself back to your apartment that night, not wanting to stay out more than need be. If you stay awake thinking of the Vagabond, no one has to know. If you leave your bed and get dressed to look for him, no one can know. If you see him at a distance, breaking someone's neck, only you have to know.

He notices you, though, at the other end of the alley, and he makes his way to you all intimidation and secret rage. You don't move other than to get your hood off your head, and he freezes when he sees you. "Shadow?"

"Hey V." Your smile is brighter now but you know the man is still confused. "What are you doing here?" His question makes you blink once, twice, before you erupt into laughter. "How about we talk some place safer?" You give him your hand to take but he simply looks at it for a moment before motioning for you to lead the way. It feels odd having the Vagabond follow you instead of leading.

You get to your apartment, silently- he's always so quiet, you think -and you settle into the couch comfortably. He stares at you, calculating as you settle into the too soft, overused furniture. "There's no tech here, stop staring at me like you're gonna kill me," you mutter, glancing at him before closing your eyes. "Why are you here?" You chuckle, smiling softly. "I've been here for three months, V."

The man blinks at you behind his mask, slight confusion clear. "Wait, you've been here since you left?"

You shrug in response, patting the spot next to you for him to sit down. "Kinda? Kinda not. I mean, if we're really counting I was out on the road for a month because, fuck, man, finding a city is hard! But yeah, three months."

There's a soft scuffing noise and then you feel the spot next to you dip, smiling warmly as you lean against the mad mercenary. "Why are you doing this, I could kill you."

"If you wanted me dead I already would be, wouldn't I?" Your voice was laced with amusement, even as the Vagabond wrapped a hand around your neck. "Choke me, daddy," you used your most breathless voice as you arched your neck into the other man's hand. You didn't expect the hand to squeeze gently. It still elicited a moan from you, your eyes cracking open as you heard the Vagabond's breath hitch.

He removed his hand almost immediately and you were sure he was blushing brightly. "Aww why'd you stop?" You teased, leaning into the man's side and moving one of your hands to his thigh. "Shut up."

His voice was calm but it was clearly an order and you obeyed, eyes opening wider to stare at him. He grabbed your hand on his thigh and you expected him to break it but all he did was stand up and pull you with him. "Pack up, we're leaving tonight." You blinked at him before scurrying to your small bedroom, gathering everything you could.


	2. Bruises and Broken Bones

You'd been driving for hours now, looking out the passenger window with your left hand resting on V's thigh. The man himself was simply driving, seemingly with no destination in mind other than getting as far away from the city as possible. You didn't mind, you would have left soon anyways. Once you hit country roads, the car slows to a stop, getting off the dirt road.

"Why're we stopping?" You turn to look at the mercenary as you asked, your voice heavy with drowsiness. He turns to you, his hands not leaving the steering wheel for a long moment. The silence is suffocating and, for a second, you’re rather sure he would dispose of you. You thought you were right when he grabbed your hand resting on his thigh harshly and pulled you to him, making sure the seatbelt cut into your skin.

You hiss, trying to move away only to be pulled closer.

"Who do you work for?"

"W-what?! Really! You met me before that city and you're asking me now who I work for?!" You’re obviously insulted at his question, glaring at him as you suddenly feel far more awake than before.

"Who?!" He grips your wrist tightly, making you scream out in surprised pain.

"No one, you maniac!! I don't work for nobody but myself!!" You tug at your arm, trying to free yourself until he lets you go, sending you against the passenger door. You curl up against it, no longer caring for the awkward position of the seatbelt, cradling your now bruised wrist to your chest as you glare at the Mad Mercenary.

"Fuck you." You know your quiet hiss is picked up on when the man turns to you, a cold look in his eyes. "You heard me, fucker. Fucking christ."  
You unbuckle your seatbelt, going for the door handle. You’re stopped by the door suddenly locking. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head and you resist the urge to growl as you turn towards him, anger clear in your face.

"What the fuck, you piece of sh-" You’re cut off by a hand at your throat, and though usually you would find this nice, your anger was clouding any and all lust you felt. You kept glaring, properly growling at the mercenary now.

"You're not going anywhere unless you want to end up dead." His hand loosens around your neck, bruises quickly blooming where the man had been holding onto you tightly.

"You do realise I don't fucking care what happens to me, right? Or are you just that lonely you want me to stick around?" Your voice turns venomously sweet near the end, a wide smirk on your lips as your hands pushed away the one on your throat.

You miss the way he falters, but you catch the anger at your last comment. "You're not. Going. Anywhere." His hand is gripping the back of your neck and you shudder, grimacing.

"Okay, okay!!" The hand relaxes but doesn't leave and you can clearly see the worry in his eyes as he stares at your neck. You sigh and rest your cheek against his arm. "You didn't have to be so mean about it, y'know? I would have stayed if you'd just asked." You manage a humourless smile and his hand is at your cheek in an instant, his thumb rubbing underneath your eyes.

You can hear the frown in his voice when he leans forwards. "I- I'm sorry."

You laugh, looking up at him. "You're a paranoid mercenary who thought I was working for someone out to kill you." You state blatantly, smiling. “I get it.”

“You forgive way too easily.” You laugh, rubbing at your throat.

“Oh, trust me, I will kill you if I get a gun in my hands. Or shoot your kneecaps.” You threaten seriously. “Can’t believe you’d think I was working for someone now of all times. I really should take your gun and shoot you.”

You hear him wince and you know you got to him. “Just drive, V.” “Don’t call me- y’know what? Alright.”

You keep close to the door as the Vagabond drives, no longer looking at him for anything, too scared to sleep. You wonder if that’s how everyone who stays around him gets. The silence is suffocating.

You stop at a motel along the road, V paying for a simple room with one bed. You decide to take the couch. “Shadow.” He sounds guilty.  
“Don’t.” Your hiss is enough to get him to back off. “Look, V. I get it, okay. I really do. Paranoia runs in everyone who’s been on the streets long enough. But you can’t take it out on someone you decided to take with you.”

“I thought you weren’t mad?” His voice is surprisingly small. You don’t know who you’re dealing with for a moment.

“I never said that. I said I understood. Now take the fucking bed.” He seems to listen as you curl up on the couch but you’re surprised when you’re picked up. You muffle a scream and instead flail.

You make a startled noise when you’re dropped on the bed. Vagabond goes in the bathroom and you stare at the ceiling. “Could you maybe, I don't know, not terrify me ever again?”

“Nah.”

You groan “I hate you.”

There was a long silence as you heard the sink run. And then the shower. You weren’t too sure what to do. There was nothing much to do. The shower turned off and there were quiet footsteps. “You can go take one.”

You almost turned to look at Vagabond before thinking better of it. “Yeah. I’ll go in a bit.”

* * *

  
You actually wake up the next morning, your throat sore and hurting. You let out a pained whimper, turning on your side before gasping at the pain in your wrist. “Shit…”

“What’s wrong?” You hear V’s footsteps come up to you as he asks. He pulls you up and looks at your wrist before you pull back, hissing.

“Don’t.” Your tone has him flinching back as you make your way to the bathroom. You check out your injuries and frown. No wonder your throat feels like shit. V hands you a glass of water and you huff before taking it, slipping out of the bathroom with it.

Your throat has a handprint on it. Not that you didn’t expect it to. You find the first aid kit and set your glass down after taking a drink.

You wrap your wrist to keep it securely in place, making sure it’ll heal properly. “Where to?” You ask, turning to look at the Vagabond.

He stays quiet for a bit before shrugging. “I have a job in the next big city. Eliminate some big shot, nothing I can’t handle.” You nod, looking at nothing.

“You lead, I’ll follow.” You promise him, looking towards him as he nods.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a most cruel host, my apologies. Yell at me about it over on my tumblr wildkingjackal.tumblr.com !  
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! <3


	3. Blood Shed for His Trust

The first few weeks are rough, tense and frustrating. You and the Vagabond are at each other’s throats at every opportunity, you out of anger, him out of frustration. The bruises dissipate after a while, though you keep your throat bandaged just to hide them.

It avoids unneeded questions and unknown answers. Still, you should have expected a job going wrong bringing you two closer. It’s all his fault, too. Not listening to your warning and just flaunting his bloody jacket in a street full of fucking cops.

“Vagabond!” You shout from behind, pulling him back only to get shot in the right arm. It hurts like a bitch. The air filling places it shouldn’t be, the sudden sting and burn. You’ve never been shot before.

You’re pretty sure you’re in shock when V pulls you back.

You don’t register the world whipping by as he makes you run. There’s so much pain in your arm.

The next thing you know, he’s tying your arm tightly, making it hurt more. It brings you back some. You’re in an alley, hiding.

You clench your hands in his shirt, watching the surroundings. “W-we gotta go. Where are we gonna go?”

V calms you, his hands gentle. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get a car, we’ll get you to a motel and then I’ll patch you up properly.”  
“Our things.”

V shakes his head. “Everything we need we always carry, remember?” You nod softly, still shaken. He takes his jacket off and drapes it over you. The weight is appreciated, makes you calm down more. Your hands are still shaking and he notices.

"Have you never been shot before?" His voice is surprised and you punch him with your left arm, angrier but still weak now. He laughs softly as the blow did little to harm him before looking up. "We have to move."

It takes a while for the cops to disperse enough for V to get a car and get you into it. You cling to your arm, panting weakly. "H-hurts like a bitch." You hiss as he drives. You notice the small glances he gives you but say nothing, his worry rolls into you in waves and you need to stop thinking.

"So, what if like, a kid saw you in your mask?" You start, smirking through the pain. "But, they're asking you for help because they lost their mom or whatever?" His laugh is a bit manic, like he's surprised you would ever bring that up.

"You're kidding me, right? What kid  _wouldn't_ be scared of me?" It's your turn to laugh, and though it jostles your arm a bit, you're fine.

The motel is shit. It's not as bad as the other ones, but it's still bad enough. V has to take his mask off to go inside but you don't look. He comes back and gets you but you're pretty sure you can walk on your own, thank you very much.

"Shadow. Look at me." You don't. He nudges you slightly again. "C'mon, I'm trying to be nice here." You snort but look at him and whoa.

He's a lot hotter than you expected. Hair to his shoulders and black, though his roots are showing- you file that away for later. You're pretty sure you're staring at this point but he's only chuckling. "Earth to Shadow?" He teases and you punch him again, a bit harder this time.

He has to clean out the wound, clean shot, he says. Barely touched the bone but passed right through. "Humans have a hyperactive scar tissue, it should heal within a week maybe?" He looks at you, smiling but you give him a confused look.

"How do you know that?" You can't help but smile now, teasing him. "V the science guy."

He rolls his eyes. "It's common knowledge! Or, it should be!" He counters but gets to work. It hurts like a bitch. He tries to make it quick but your flinching kind of impedes that. Not that it matters, he's done soon enough anyways.

"V, are we taking a break for a bit? This shit hurts." You ask when he's done. He has a pensive look on his face and you can't help but stare still, taking in more details. His eyes are still as blue as ever, and despite the paint he has on, you notice nice bone structure. Almost perfectly symmetrical.

He looks at you and you can't help the embarrassed blush at being caught staring, not that he says anything about it. "We should. We'll stay here for the night and then leave first thing in the morning." His plan is sound. The police will still be looking for The Vagabond anyways. You find it hard to imagine that V, with his gentle hands is _The_  Vagabond.

And then you remember the incident a few weeks ago and wince, reaching up to touch your throat. The bruises are long gone, but at the movement, V looks properly guilty. "Are you still having a hard time? I might have bruised more than just your skin..." You shake your head and move away from him.

"I'm okay. Just need some sleep." There are two beds this time. V had gotten into the habit of getting a shareable bedroom recently. It was nice, to say the least. He still hovered over you, like some kind of mother hen. You look back at him and sure enough he looks a mix of guilty and worried. "V. It's water under the bridge. At least for now. I'll still shoot your kneecaps, though."

His laugh makes you smile and him relax. The air around you seemed to calm as well, even as you moved to a bed and slumped down into it. "Y'know, I was checking your laptop this morning." This doesn't surprise him, you've been in charge of organising his jobs for him recently. "There's a crew in there. The Fakes? Fake AH Crew? Sound familiar?"

"I've heard of them." V admitted, moving to the second bed and getting his shoes off. "Apparently they're pretty good at what they do." He looks at you, curious now to hear about the job.

You hum, sitting up and making grabby hands for him to get his computer. "Well, if I remember correctly, they sent you an offer for a heist they'll be doing but... That was a week ago? We've been busy." He nods softly. "But this morning, they had canceled and said something about not contacting you for a while." You read the offer over when he hands you the laptop. "Yep. That's what it says."

He seems disappointed but moves next to you. You realise suddenly how much nicer things are now. "I can't believe it took me getting shot for us to get along!" You laugh, head thrown back. It sounds a bit manic but V joins in, smiling brightly. 

"I mean, we  _do_ make a good team..." You wave him off, snorting. "Yeah, as if." You ignore the warmth that blooms on your face at his words and instead show him the job cancellation. He reads through anything he can find containing the Fakes before seemingly growing bored.

"If they don't want me right now, just find as many jobs close to there as possible." He sounds tired, the day finally catching up to him. You're already tired and just whine. "V, I wanna sleep." You look at him and still can't get over how handsome he is. "You also said we'd be taking a break!"

He smiles and reaches over to rub your back, the motion makes you tense, thinking he'll hurt you again. He keeps rubbing though, even after you relax, doesn't seem to want to say anything, just comfort you. He eventually closes the laptop with his other hand before putting it on the nearest bedside table. "C'mon, let's sleep." He says, tugging you into his side. You don't complain or make a move to leave. He's warm and comfortable and it's been so long since you had had any type of comfort that this was welcome.

* * *

 

Things don't really move on from there. You figure it's because you barely know anything  _about_ him. Honestly! How hard is it for him to open up to you! By now you've worked together half a year and you've never seen under that face paint or gotten to know his name!

You doubt he'd even  _want_ to share all that anyways. He knows quite a bit about you, though. Mainly by observing. He knows you're great at sneaking and pickpocketing, but he knew that when he met you. What he's noticed more is that you integrate in crowds well, making sure no one notices you're even there. He had you follow a target once but poor V stood out like a sore thumb while you cruised your way through shops and people, all the while keeping the target in sight. He's let you follow them ever since then.

All in all, despite being an asshole at first, V is actually pretty nice company. He has you sit on the roof on one of his missions while he has his sniper ready. You didn't mind the sound, growing used to gunshots by now, and you actually laughed at the display the body made. Falling on those stairs with legs wide open, a wonderful sight indeed.

It had barely taken half an hour to get the cops off your trail. You had personally made sure their equipments would malfunction.

Thinking on it now, you figure that's why he keeps you around, as nice as The Vagabond is, he wouldn't have kept you with him this long if you were useless. Which you're not, fucking thank you. It all comes to a head when he gets another job at Los Santos, not from the Fakes this time, though. "V, I'm serious, I wouldn't trust this." You tell him, pointing at the anonymous message. "They want you dead, this is a perfect trap!"

He nodded, still getting ready to leave for the capital of crime itself. "Yeah, I know." His voice is calm but there's a nervous undertone that you've learned to pick up on. "That's why you're going ahead to scout it out." You laugh at that, knowing he's serious.

"Yeah how about I don't wanna die?" You can't help but grimace in anger at him. He looks tired for a second before touching your shoulder, soft, gentle. Everything he isn't. Or is. You haven't been sure lately.

 "Trust me?" His words mean a lot because, it's true, you haven't trusted him, not completely, ever. But he's asking this of you now, like he knows that he's putting you in the worst case scenario. And you know he knows. But he has a plan, and you always come out alive in his plans.

A moment too long, you think, a moment too long it took you to answer because he looks hurt now, like the fact that you don't trust him cuts deep. Maybe it does. You've noticed he's been trusting you a lot more. So you nod, resigned but determined. Because you're a team. You have to be by now. "Yeah, okay V." "Ryan." The name catches you by surprise and he seems surprised to have said it as well.

"Just, it's easier. Less annoying, if you call me Ryan." He says, something nervous and cold in his voice and you smile, reach to touch his shoulder, like he's still touching yours. "Ryan, huh? Had you pegged for a James." You tease and the tension leaves the air with his laugh.

It's good, hearing him laugh, makes your chest warm. Fuck that sounded gay. You backtrack in your own mind, suddenly all too aware of how he's touching you. Fuck, fuck. You pull away and look back at the computer, you don't miss the slight hurt in his eyes as you do so. Shit. He touches the top of your spine, just under your neck, hand warm and careful, like he's scared putting too much pressure would break you. You think he's scared of hurting you again, like he did all that time ago in that car. You don't blame him. Sometimes you're scared too.

"V?" You look back at him and he's hesitant. He's been hesitant around you for a week now, it's growing old and frustrating. "I'm sorry,  _Ryan_?" You correct yourself and he looks hopeful and a bit like a lost puppy. You think the look suits him.

"Can I have  _your_ name?" The way he asks it is like when he asked you to trust him. You're the one who's hesitating now, looking away and swallowing. You know your own name, that's not the problem. It's just the fact that you've been Shadow,  _his_ Shadow, now for so long. You shrug, knowing you look nervous and scared and he adds pressure to your back and... it's reassuring. Feeling it helps you calm down.

You still can't look at him though. "Maybe... Maybe later." He doesn't look as hurt as you thought he would, he actually looks hopeful because you didn't outright say  _no_. You think you're hopeful too. Or, you think you are, mostly when his hand lingers a bit longer than you know platonic touches should. He takes it away eventually though and you kind of smile at him, a little awkward, a little shy. Shit. You're the one going soft, not him.

Ryan. It's a nice name, you think. A really nice name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aLIVE and working on more things? maybe wHO KNOWS I DON'T  
> welcome to hell™ more like


	4. Thank God for Kevlar and Helmets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on four things at once, this fic included!! Giving you all this while I write other things and work on more chapters (chapter 5 being already done)  
> Apologies for the one year delay tbh I'm fucking horrible

This mission is stupid. It's stupid, you bet your fucking _ass_ it's fucking stupid. You curse at Ryan lightly. "Why am _I_ doing this again?"

He smiles somewhat awkwardly. "You're less threatening looking?" "Fuck you!! I could shoot you!" His laugh only bothers you. 

You sigh and look over where you're supposed to meet these people, or spy on them as Ryan had put it. A spy? You? ... The thought wasn't all that farfetched, actually. He’s not wrong when he says that. It’s just odd to think that maybe that would’ve been a plausible career choice at some point in your life. Maybe in another universe. He's staring at you intently right now and you sigh.

"Look, I don't know what you expect me to do. This is a remote part of the city, I can't just walk through a crowd and look normal. I have to look like one of  _them_ for this to work." You sound exasperated, because you are. The meeting was arranged to be in a day at most but they would love for Ryan to get there sooner. Meaning, as soon as possible, meaning  _obvious trap_. "Can't we just... not? It's a trap, we both know it!"

He rests a hand on the small of your back and you almost instantly relax. "Shadow..." He says it soft and sweet like you  _mean_ something to him, like you're  _not_ just some kid that he picked up off the streets. It makes your stomach twist, whispering your name to him. He looks surprised but moves closer, like he  _wants_ to be closer. "Ryan." You move away, needing the space because otherwise you'll lose yourself in the warmth of it all, you'll think that you're so much more than what you  _are._ "Let's get back to work."

He opens his mouth but closes it and nods. "I need you to get in there. As one of them. You have to be my eyes and ears in there for when I show up." You sigh, rubbing your temples. You can't just waltz in there. Not when all the soldiers are already there. You're not that good. Ryan picks up on your unease, tries to touch you, says your name but you ignore him, deep in thought.

"I'm going to need a kevlar and as much ammo for a small gun as you can spare." You finally tell him, plan formulated. "I'm going to cause a distraction, drawing as many people away as I possibly can. Then you can go in and figure out what the hell's going on. I'm also taking your bike, the new one." You smirk at his annoyed grumbling. "Hey, I need to be flashy, gotta keep them on my tail."

He's quiet for a moment, doesn't reach for you again, seems a bit more hesitant than before. Like he doesn't like the thought of this. You think he's about to say something but he simply touches your elbow and stares at you. "I trust you." His voice is even, calm. Genuine. He really  _does_. It makes you feel embarrassed, for some reason, cheeks flushing as you look away.

"Yeah okay." Your voice falters and you're pretty sure he smiles. He tugs you closer, wants to touch you more, and you let him. He's gentle, touching your back and shoulders like you're some fragile doll. You don't mind, not really, it's comforting to lean against Ryan. Easy. Just like how easy it is to go from calling him V to Ryan. 

You pull away eventually, sighing as you look at the small shed they want to meet at. "I hate this." Ryan's quiet for a moment but grabs your hand. "What are you doing?"

"Let me do something for you." He's quiet as he tugs you to the bathroom, taking out a palette from under the sink. You stare. "You're my shadow, y'know? That's what they're calling you now, Vagabond's Shadow." He explains, pulling out 99% alcohol and another smaller palette. "Let me make it so they're  _really_ scared of you." He's smiling, bright and hopeful. You're hesitant but smile.

"Yeah, okay." You think you sound like a broken record. He starts prepping colours and brushes, staring for a moment before picking out white, blue and black. "Why not your colours?" You ask but he smirks in response and gets to work. When he's done and look at yourself in the mirror, you look almost exactly like Ryan. Except the colours on his face are inverted on yours. You laugh, actually amazed. "Holy shit..."

He's proud of himself, so proud he even wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you right to his side. "I figured this would make them scared. Would make them  _know_ who you are." You laugh in answer. "If you're planning a distraction, we need them to be scared."

There's a moment of comfortable quiet as you just stare at both of your faces, awed. "You sneaky motherfucker." You say fondly, staring at yourself and barely recognising your own face. You can't help but lean against him, noticing the content smile that replaces the pride on his face. Like he wants this and maybe he does. Maybe you do too. You're not sure. It's nice, though. It's nice pressing into him and relaxing. It's even nicer when he takes your hand, gentle- always gentle -and guides you back to the beds.

You think you can get used to this. Ryan being gentle and sweet. It's not like you're  _not_ gay. You're pretty sure you're somewhere in between. Not that it matters, really. It never mattered much, out on the streets. It was just survival. 

But this, right here, despite the shitty motel smell and just, the shitty motel in general, this was nice. _Ryan_ is nice. 

He guides you towards the beds and nearly gets you to lay down with him before you take your hand back. "Guess we'll be going in a few hours." You say awkwardly, moving to the second bed in a stiff motion, not like yourself. 

A part of you knows you're being stupid. Ryan is a great, upstanding criminal. But another part also points out that you still don't  _know_ him. Not really. You lay down and stare at nothing. It's not like you  _have_ to know anything about him to like him. But you know his paranoia could always get the better of him.  _Trust me?_ You close your eyes, thinking  _yes, of course. Always._ It's comforting.

* * *

 

The fact that the plan is stupid doesn't stop either of you from going through with it. A distraction. To check on a trap. Ryan has a fucking death wish. You figure you do too, considering you  _suggested it._ It's fine, though. Ryan's plans always involve you getting out alive. Right? He hands you a com. You sigh and put it in your ear, nervousness obvious.

"You get pinned, you call for me. Okay? I gave you enough rounds that you can fight them all off, but if anything happens-" "Ryan. I know." Your voice is the gentle one for a change. "I know, Ryan." You reiterate, just to reassure him.

"Don't die." You laugh as he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I mean it."

"Or else what? Gonna kill me?" You don't see his expression under the mask, but you're not sure it's amused. You nod still. "I'll try." You promise.

You'd been watching from afar, trying to make a pattern of the guards at the door, but they hadn't budged in nearly five hours. The sun was setting and there was still not sight of replacements. You sighed and put on a biker helmet. "Wish me luck." You joke, climbing down the roof to a nearby, brand spanking new, chrome plated motorcycle. You decide to make sure to crash it.

You're far enough away that it's a ten minute drive from where you are. It's worth it, though. Ryan had gotten you a larger jacket to make them think it was him. Except the guards seemed to know better when you pulled out your SMG.

You hear Ryan’s sharp gasp when the guards aim at you but you spray bullets first.

You’re thankful for the strap of the SMG, letting go of it to rev the bike’s engine and get even _more_ attention. When guards start piling out, you kick it. “Vagabond, now’s a good time!” You shout, glancing back at a few cars following.

Of course you try your best to avoid the bullets but fuck if you’re not the best driver. You shouldn’t have relied so much on Ryan for driving. Still, you managed to get them far enough away before shooting again, aiming for the tyres.

One of the cars sways and gives when the front tyres pop and you smirk to yourself. It doesn’t last long, though, because the other car still won’t relent it’s returning fire. You’re pretty sure you hear Vagabond curse a few times and a few gunshots as you make your way back to the meeting point.

“Extraction time?” You ask, glance back every now and then but not risking to stop your serpentine maneuvers. You hear him curse again but no other reply comes.

“Vagabond! I’m kind of in a bind here! Do you need an extraction??” Your voice is slightly panicked and you don’t get an answer immediately. Fucking shit. You curse the big gay crush that you have for Ryan as you change course directly away from the meeting point.

“Shadow, we need to leave, where are you?” Finally his voice comes in. You hiss as a bullet nearly misses your head. “Shadow?”

“Can’t make it. Get out of there, fast. These guys are _not_ relenting.” You curse when you feel a bullet graze your leg. That’s going to hurt like a bitch later when you’re not high on adrenaline.

His breathing is sharp on the other end, panicked you think. “Shadow-” “Nope.”

“Shadow!”

“Not now.”

“Please don’t…”

 _Pained_ . You hum thoughtfully. Ryan had never sounded _pained_ before. How odd. You manage to take a sharp turn and return some fire, shooting the passenger but not killing him.

“Get outta there, V.” You know your voice wavers when the car still follows. “They’re not letting up. You have _to get out of there_.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the sound of a car starting from his side. _Thank the fucking gods_. You look in your right side mirror and finally turn when the fire stops for a moment. You shoot again, blood explodes on the passenger side.

There are a lot of things that could go horribly wrong here, you think. Like, how you could swerve off the road and die at any time. How they could somehow shoot out your back tyre, and by such make the former scenario happen. It's funny, when you really think. All this started because of Ryan. Not just earlier in the day, but because you  _met_ him. Because  _you_ followed him. So maybe it's actually more your fault than his. You decided to get close, you  _chose_ to follow. You think next time he offers you a cigarette, if there ever is a next time, you'll take him up on it.

You notice by then that Ryan’s gone quiet, but that’s fine. You start making your way back to the shed. There’s yellow dust all over the chrome bike and your injury. It stings. Whatever. 

The fire isn’t as bad as earlier but you still get grazed a few times. The left arm, your right hand as the mirror shatters. When you get closer to the meeting point, you notice a car. Fucking _Ryan_.

“You’re supposed to be gone already!!”

“Shut up, just hurry and get here.”

“V, I’m going to shoot you.” He laughs, something relieved in it.

“Hey c’mon it’s not-”

You don’t hear the rest, not when a bullet hits right in your back. You lose your breath and your balance, effectively falling off the bike. Fuck. You hit the ground, try to tuck and roll but fail. It hurts. As the world goes dark, you manage to thank your helmet for keeping your head safe. 


	5. Pounds of Flesh for Your Name

You feel cool metal under you. It’s almost comforting. Not like Ryan’s touches, or the way he looks at you, but comforting in a way that your body feels like it’s on fire. The metal calms you.

You’re not sure where you are but when you try to move, everything burns with pain worse than you thought it would. You nearly scream but hold it in. Fuck. Are you drugged? You’re pretty sure you’re tied up in any case. Where’s Ryan?

You wiggle slightly and open your eyes but the room is dark and any movement hurts like a bitch. You’re pretty sure your wounds have scabbed over somewhat but you remember falling off the bike. Shit. You feel a foot poke your side and inhale sharply at the contact.

“Oh good you’re alive.” Ryan sounds worried, like he thought you were dead. “Now we can talk about how to get out of here.”

You laugh, it hurts. You want to call him by his name but stop yourself. “Vagabond, I can’t _move_.” You hiss at him, eyes closing. “I’m pretty sure if we’re going to be escaping you’ll have to carry me. Or leave me here.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He sounds hurt that you would even suggest that. “Shadow you-”

“I’m dead weight at this point. Pretty sure my spine is bruised from that shot. Or something’s broken.” You sound defeated, tired. Not like yourself at all but it doesn’t matter. It just hurts.

There’s a long moment of silence, too long to be comfortable. “Hey, why do you wear a skull mask, anyways?” He laughs and you smile wider.

“You’re asking this _now_? Of all times?” He’s amused and you want to shrug but stop yourself. “I uh… I was inspired. By theatre.” He sounds embarrassed and shy. You can’t help the giggles that leave you, even if it hurts.

“V, the theatre guy.” You tease when you calm down. “That’s a stupid reason.”

“Shut up.”

You think you doze because the next thing you know, someone’s hauling you up and you scream at the pain it causes. They slam you against the nearest wall, trying to get you to shut up. It works, but only barely.

You can hear Ryan shouting at them as they drag you away. You think he’s following but you can’t tell. You’re dropped to your knees in a big room. When were you moved from the shed? How long had you been out?

“The Vagabond and his Shadow.” Says some guy. You manage to look up, only the white around your eyes is smudged, much like the black around Ryan’s eyes. Huh, when had he been put next to you?

“Who the fuck are you?” You don’t think about holding your tongue back, head already swimming in pain. You hear a guard tsk and suddenly there’s even more pain on your face. Fuck.

“Snarky little thing aren’t you.” You laugh.

“Hey, a lot of people like this fine piece of ass. Better not damage the cargo too much.” Your voice is dripping venom. The leader shakes his head when a guard comes near you.

“Leave him. He’s not what we’re after.” You manage to keep your head up for a few more seconds, watching the guy make his way over. It falls before you can see his head. Keeping it up hurts. Your knees hurt.

You feel a hand, tight, on your jaw, squeezing it and making you look up. It hurts. But then, what doesn’t? You hear Ryan snarl and you feel yourself growl.

You practically dare him to give you an inch. He accidentally does and you move and bite him _hard_. He shouts in pain, you think you feel blood. You rip your head back and spit out what was in your mouth. A chunk of flesh.

Ryan’s probably impressed. He lets out a panicked shout when someone hauls you away to beat you up, though.

When they’re done, you have a black eye and a broken arm. You’re unable to walk, being dragged to what you assume is where you were kept. You’re dropped in unceremoniously, letting out a whimper as you land on your broken arm. Everything hurts.

You’re left there in the dark to stew. It’s fine, though, the metal is still cool. You close your eyes and relax. Hopefully Ryan gets out soon. If Ryan’s safe it’s fine.

The room gets too hot too soon. It’s weird how that goes and you didn’t expect it. You’re trying to move to get to a colder spot but just _trying_ hurts. You think a shot rings out but you’re not sure if it’s real or just your head. You’re pretty sure it’s real when there’s an explosion. Well, good, Ryan’s getting out.

There’s a lot of noise. Mostly screams and shooting, one more explosion. And then suddenly it’s quiet and you open your eyes to stare into the darkness. The door opens and you’re actually surprised.

“Shadow…” It _is_ Ryan. You try to turn but just give a pained whimper in answer. He’s gentle then, careful even, but it still _hurts._ “Shadow, it’s okay. I’m here.”

When did you start shaking? You think you’re crying too but that can’t be right. You haven’t cried in… too long. The pain makes you pass out.

* * *

 

You wake up to a bright light. It’s not really a surprise, just blinding and annoying. There’re a few whispers and you turn towards where you hear them. You see Ryan, talking to… some guy. You’re not sure who it is, though.

He walks over and touches your face. It’s nice, his hand is warm and soft despite the callouses. You crack a smile but he just looks worried.

“Your arm is broken.” You nod. “You have all kinds of bruises and road burns.” That makes you laugh. You know. “Shadow…”

“Hey, it’s- it’s okay…” You somehow manage, moving to sit up with a pained gasp. “Yeah. It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Hyperactive scar tissue, remember?” You tease him, smiling up. It’s your right arm that’s broken, but it’s okay. You don’t need _both_ arms to use a computer.

“Are you… are you sure?” His voice is soft, careful. You smile, looking at him with the same dreaminess you did the first time you saw him.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” You move your hand to hold his, taking a deep breath. You’re alive. Ryan’s alive. He came back for you.

He came back for _you._

It's a nice feeling, makes warmth bloom hard in your chest. He gently squeezes your hand and you look up, smiling bright. "Thank you."

He stares at you for a moment before smiling. "Did you really-" "Yeah, I did." He frowns and so do you. "You didn't have to come back. You could've left, R- V. I'm not- you didn't _have to_. But you did. Thank you."

He stares at you before moving a hand to your hair and ran his fingers through it as best he could. "Shadow-" You cut him off to tell him your name, eyes watery. You repeat it, urging him to use it, practically begging with your eyes.

He does. It sounds like the best thing in the world. You can't help but sob, clinging to his hand. The world feels right since the whole thing. Finally.

You're still mad at him for the whole going headfirst into a trap thing, but it's okay. You're both alive still, he came back for you.

You sleep for a good 12 hours, the doctor Ryan paid off doesn't mind keeping you here, apparently. It's good, getting some down time. You learn that the man's name is Caleb and that he's nice enough. He doesn't work for just anybody, but when money speaks, he listens.

He doesn't let Ryan move you just yet, tender muscles that need to relax for a few more hours before you can put weight on them. He's about to put on The Vagabond 'charm' when you stop him.

"V. He's right, okay? Still feels like I'm on fire." It's a bit of a lie, but not entirely. Moving hurts less now, but it still does, so you decide not to do much. Ryan relents.

You still leave early, he insists and you just roll your eyes and follow him. "Shit, my poor arm..." You sigh, looking at your cast as Ryan helps you out of bed. "Did you get clothes for me?" There's a beat of silence.

"I mean." Damn it. "I have some of my clothes?" You roll your eyes at him and get dressed in his clothes. They don't quite fit but you guess it's good enough. "I rented a small apartment, don't want to leave just yet." Because of your injuries.

You're glad he cares enough to watch out for you, it makes your cheeks dust over with pink. "Yeah, okay. Two beds?" His awkward silence makes you smile. "It's okay if it's one. I don't mind sharing."

You've never seen Ryan embarrassed, in all the time you've spent with him, but it's cute when he is. "O-oh no, I can take the couch-"

"No! I-I mean. Please don't?" You're pretty sure you hear Caleb snicker before Ryan gets into gear and guides you outside. "I really don't mind sharing." He still hesitates but eventually nods. You're grateful.

The drive is quiet, but not out of awkwardness, just because you keep blinking in and out of consciousness. When he talks about it you smile. "It's okay, I think it's just the pain killers." Your yawn leaves him smiling so you smile back.

The apartment isn't small but it's not one of the largest you've ever seen either. Ryan guides you to the bed, despite it being the middle of the day. "So I was thinking," you start nonchalantly. "Maybe you should teach me more things. Like hacking, so I can check the CCTVs for you while I'm stuck here."

His smile is soft and you tug him into bed, he goes willingly, laying down with you. "Think you can stand my ass long enough for that?" You tease, smirk evident.

"I can try." He wraps an arm around you, gentle. "I'd rather you come with me but, I can take a break too. I have enough money sa-"

"You're not taking a break. We both know what that would do to your reputation. You can't risk it just because of me. People will talk."

"They already do." You give him a reprimanding look but he whispers your name and you soften. He lulls you to sleep, promising to talk about it later. Sleep comes easy with him there.


End file.
